


Flirt Not with the Abyss

by Emby_M



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Jealous Outsider, M/M, Multi, Mute Corvo Attano, No Smut, Other, The Void as a Character, Too Tired To Care Corvo, Wet Dream, some making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emby_M/pseuds/Emby_M
Summary: Corvo has what he thinks is just a nice dream.





	

Corvo finds himself floating in the Void.

His dreams always beckon him here, always pull him into the heavy still of the Void. It is no longer strange.

He wonders sometimes if the Void he dreams of is real, or simply a likewise shape summoned from his memory.

He’s almost asleep, but he can’t help but notice his only clothing is his pajama pants — The Outsider doesn’t summon him without clothing him first; prefers to give Corvo some dignity, or perhaps just prefers to take the clothes off himself.

And that’s strange too, because the Outsider is nowhere, not even the dumb-eyed facsimile Corvo summons sometimes on lonely nights.

In fact, he’s not even on ground. It’s just like he’s submerged in water.

These facts should add up to him being suspicious, but the cradle of the Void is so comfortable, and his tiredness so heavy, that he forgets entirely to be wary.

From the warm, amniotic void comes a soft touch, a gentle caress of his forearm, like ghostly hands. He sighs softly, the touch welcome.

Another touch comes from behind him, scuffing the hand down his bare shoulder blade and resting on the small of his back.

Corvo hums a little, opening his eyes slightly, seeing nothing. Only the Void, as always.

He relaxes back.

More hands join the first two. They scuff his collarbones, cup his face, scratch into his hair, linger on his hips.

Fond and gentle.

Corvo surrenders into the touch. It can’t want to hurt him — it’s too gentle and too kind. It has to be something he’s conjured — or something the Outsider’s gifted to him.

The ghostly hands strip him of his pajama pants slowly, and he assists it by pulling his legs out when the cloth bunches around his ankles.

The hands are even more now, touching his face, slipping one digit into his mouth, pushing his hair back, touching his thighs, coaxing his hips forward.

The finger in his mouth isn’t quite shaped like a human hand, but it tastes like skin, tastes like someone who’d been swimming in the ocean, so he is content to suck, let the finger prod his tongue.

The hands tickle him gently, and he giggles soundlessly, around the finger. But then they caress down his softening tummy, and he sighs.

The finger comes away and a ghostly pair of lips replaces it. Its kisses are soft and timid, not too insistent, so he lets it kiss him, lets it play and explore. It’s a good kisser, whatever it is, attuned to what Corvo likes. There is a pair of the arms that stay solid around his waist, holding him. The arms are slim, and don’t hold much power behind them.

Corvo reaches a hand up and finds no solid before him, despite the sensation of a body pressed against him. So instead he reaches back and cups the arm, asking it to continue.

It seems like the ghost is pleased by this, because it presses a quick, bright kiss to Corvo’s lips, and then grabs at his hips insistently.

It strips his underdrawers off.

 _You’re going a bit fast, aren’t you?_ Corvo mouths, and the ghost giggles, a noise that doesn’t quite sound real but sounds familiar, and kisses him again.

It’s tricky, and teases Corvo. Its hands trace his favorite spots, his scars, rub circles against his hipbones, tease the insides of his thighs.

Corvo feels himself stirring, and the hands are just barely tracing when the Outsider’s voice pierces the comfortable air.

“You _fuck!”_ He curses, and it forces Corvo fully awake, turning to see the Outsider indignant.

Corvo opens his mouth, as if he’s going to say _anything_ when he’s _mute_ , but the Outsider blows past him and pushes him back.

“You know Corvo is _mine!”_ He shouts, seemingly to the air, pointing an accusatory finger.

The air around them shivers and whimpers.

“Don’t play innocent! You had to have planned this.”

The air harrumphs, and floats Corvo’s clothes back to him.

The Outsider turns as Corvo begins putting on his pants. “And you! You were just going to let someone random molest you?”

Corvo shrugs, utterly bewildered, one leg in his underdrawers.

“ _Honestly._ ”

The Outsider turns back to the air and begins lecturing it on personal space and consent and _not stealing my_ _fucking boyfriend, you absolute ninny._

Corvo dresses, what he had assumed was a gentle erotic dream being slowly interrupted and revealed to be something stranger.

Once the lecture is done and Corvo is back in his pajamas, the Outsider displaces them into another section of the Void, one with curtains and partial walls.

The Outsider is clearly angry, his lips pulled into a thin snarl, his dark eyes narrowed.

“That harlot,” he hisses.

Corvo points at himself, utterly lost.

The Outsider sighs.

“Not _you_. Do you recall how I told you that the Void is not a place? She’s something else entirely. She’s partially a consciousness, and _apparently,_ she has a _crush on you_ so she tried to _seduce you._ ”

Corvo just blinks slowly and signs <How was I supposed to know that?>

The Outsider scratches his head furiously and yells, “I don’t know! I’m just abnormally, irrationally angry and it doesn’t make any _sense!_ ”

And then Corvo laughs because _oh, I get it._

The Outsider growls and throws his hands up, peeking his head out of the curtains to yell at the Void again.

“Stupid!” He yells, as though he was a child, and it’s precious to see a chaos god so jealous, especially for him.

  



End file.
